


love like ghosts

by burninghoneyatdusk



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Small Town, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Halloween, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27294997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burninghoneyatdusk/pseuds/burninghoneyatdusk
Summary: Ordinarily Clarke would be thrilled to be paired with her best friend for their annual Halloween scavenger hunt - but that was before he started giving her the cold shoulder out of nowhere. She has no idea what she did, but decides that a night with him forced to be by her side is the perfect opportunity to find out.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 24
Kudos: 240
Collections: bellarkescord halloween gift exchange





	love like ghosts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elle_stone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elle_stone/gifts).



> Happy Halloween everyone!! 🍁👻🎃🍂
> 
> TW // Brief mention of suicide and murder (in relation to a ghost story)
> 
> The title is from the song Love Like Ghosts by Lord Huron. If you've never listened, the album it's on (Strange Trails) is the perfect halloween album. You can read more [here](http://www.mtv.com/news/2139360/lord-huron-strange-trails-ben-schneider-interview/), but essentially the whole album takes place in a dystopian fiction world, which is pretty cool.

_ Yes, I know that love is like ghosts _

_ Oh, few have seen it, but everybody talks _

_ Spirits follow everywhere I go _

_ Oh, they sing all day and they haunt me in the night _

_ Yes, I know that love is like ghosts _

_ Oh, and what ain't living can never really die _

_ You don't want me, baby, please don't lie _

_ Oh, but if you're leaving, I gotta know why _

\--∞--

“Okay, okay. Everyone hush,” Raven yells over them. It’s a little dramatic - there was only light chatter amongst the group - but that’s just Raven. “We have to draw numbers.”

Clarke smiles, wrapping her fleece zip-up tighter around her. The bonfire in Raven’s backyard is warm, but it’s chilly enough that she guesses she’ll be freezing once they leave its comfort and get going. Then again, that’s what the flask full of Jack is for. 

“I call Monty,” Jasper calls across the fire from her, tugging at his best friend. 

“Thanks,” Maya says. She rolls her eyes at her boyfriend, but not without affection.

Raven’s eye roll, however, is more genuine. 

“You know that’s not how it works,” she scolds, mixing the paper slips in the bright orange, plastic halloween serving bowl that they found at dollar general three years ago. Each slip has a number, one through four, and there are two of each. 

Clarke feels a pang of grief at the fact that this will be their last Halloween scavenger hunt. They’re seniors, so that means that most of them won’t be back from college next Halloween. It’s the end of an era. 

Clarke glances to her left, sneaking a look at her best friend, who is strategically sat on the other side of Murphy. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t overanalyze a seat choice, but it’s hard to ignore that choice when Bellamy has been ignoring  _ her _ specifically for nearly a month. She has no idea what she did to offend him, and tried to ask him about it, but he only brushed her off. Clarke hates it. If there’s anyone who doesn’t beat around the bush with her, who is always honest with her, it’s Bellamy. It’s been like that for years, and he clearly doesn’t understand how much the recent change is hurting her. Or even worse - maybe he does understand, and he just doesn’t care. 

Raven offers the bowl to Jasper and he dramatically mixes up the papers. She releases an exasperated sigh in response. He bites his lip as he chooses a number, squeezing his eyes shut as if that might help. 

“Two,” he announces when he reads it, as if that even means anything - he’s the first one to draw.

Raven goes over to Monty next. Jasper is leaning over his shoulder, and his loud cheer means that Monty doesn’t need to announce his number to the group. He shoots Harper an apologetic smile, but Clarke can tell he’s as happy about it as Jasper is. It makes sense - the two of them have been best friends since kindergarten, meaning it’s only fitting that their last scavenger hunt is completed together. In fact, their friendship is the only one within the group that existed before that fateful eighth grade history project brought them all together.

Besides Monty and Jasper, none of them were friends before that project. Given that they live in a small town with a graduating class of only about 100, it was actually impressive that each of them were from different friend groups. Monty and Jasper hung out with some other nerdy guys. Raven was an athlete. Harper was friends with the popular girls, for lack of a better term. Murphy mostly kept to himself, and Clarke only knew him as the guy that sold weed in the alley next to the McDonald’s. Maya was a late addition to their group, after she started dating Jasper the summer before they started high school. 

Then there was Bellamy - he was hard to place, a floater of sorts. He was an athlete, although he didn’t hang out with Raven much because this was before the days of boys and girls mingling in friend groups. He was also a huge nerd, and somewhat friendly with both Monty and Jasper. Then, of course, there was the fact that he was undeniably  _ popular _ . He hung out with the cool guys and was fawned over by Harper and her friends, and probably just about every girl in their class. Clarke, however, wasn’t a floater at all. In fact, Wells was really her only friend at the time, before he moved away the summer before high school. She didn’t mind though - she was never much of a people person.

So when their teacher announced their group - Clarke, Bellamy, Murphy, Raven, Harper, Monty, and Jasper - Clarke’s eyes widened. It was a year-long project and this group was like trying to survive with the breakfast club for an entire school year, instead of for a single Saturday. It was disastrous in the beginning - everyone disagreed on everything, most of all Bellamy. Forever type A, Clarke wanted to be in control and didn’t trust the group to help her earn an A. Bellamy, as charming as over, was more passionate than the rest of them given that it was a history project. So Bellamy and her, more than any of the others, engaged in a passive aggressive rivalry regarding who was leading the group and making decisions about the project. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t always passive aggressive - there was a lot of bickering too. 

This went on until December, but in the end, Clarke’s fear of failing outweighed her stubbornness. Snow falling over their quaint New England town of Arkadia, she marched over to Bellamy’s house with a proposition. She was there for business, that was it, and so when he answered the door, she proposed that they put their differences aside and act as group co-leaders. It was the obvious choice, given that the rest of their group was hopeless. Clarke didn’t like how amused he seemed listening to her very detailed proposal, and assumed he was going to laugh in her face when she stopped speaking. He did chuckle, but then he agreed and asked her if she wanted to come inside for hot chocolate. She was so shocked that she ended up stuttering a yes, to her own disbelief. 

After Bellamy and Clarke reined everyone in, and after so many afternoons spent together working on the project for an entire year, they ended the school year much closer than expected. They spent the summer before high school hanging out, drifting from their previous friend groups - or at least, those who  _ had _ previous friend groups. Clarke and Murphy, as Murphy liked to remind her, were fellow cockroaches. By the time high school rolled around, they were all sitting at the same lunch table. Now, three years later, Clarke calls them family. Oh, and they definitely got an A on their project - Clarke loves to remind everyone of that.

Even with how close the group is as a whole, Clarke and Bellamy were always closest to each other. He was her person, and it was bad enough they’d be saying goodbye in just a year, but the cold shoulder he’s been giving her is making her think that maybe they won’t have this year at all. It’s been nearly a month of this odd behavior, and she’s officially at a loss about what to do.

Raven passes the bowl to Harper next, who pulls out a one. Bellamy announces that he drew a three, and Murphy announces that he drew a four. When Maya pulls a one, her and Harper begin taunting the boys about how they’re going to kick their asses. Clarke is up next - it’s Murphy or Bellamy. She’s not sure if she hopes it’s Bellamy, or if she’s dreading the possibility. They were paired up once before, during their sophomore year, and that was when things started going downhill for Clarke. 

That was that night that Clarke realized,  _ Oh shit. I have a thing for my best friend _ .

Unfortunately, it had become more than a  _ thing _ in the two years since, but that’s neither here nor there. Tonight, she’ll be lucky if she gets a few words from him.

Clarke stirs up the two slips of paper in the bowl, feeling strangely nervous about drawing a number. 

“Three,” she announces. She’s still unsure how to feel about it, as she glances past Murphy over at Bellamy. Just about everyone  _ but _ Bellamy has something to say about this.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Raven complains as Murphy starts cackling. 

“Aw Reyes, you won the lottery,” he laughs, taking a sip from his own flask.

“Seriously?” Jasper yells from across the fire. “Those two shouldn’t be allowed on the same team, it’s an unfair advantage. They kicked our asses sophomore year.”

“Maybe you should put your effort into keeping up with us,” Bellamy challenges, wearing his signature smirk. Clarke supposes if there’s anything that can break Bellamy out of this weird behavior, it’s his competitive side. He’ll want to win as badly as she does. The other two years, the years they weren’t partners, it felt like a personal competition between the two of them. Bellamy and Monty won freshman year, the first year of the scavenger hunt, and Clarke and Raven won last year. 

“Rules are rules,” Raven tells Jasper, before scowling at Murphy once more.

“Okay,” Bellamy announces, standing with the lists in his hand. “Courtesy of Octavia,” he adds, passing each team a sheet. 

Each of them was required to come up with an item and send it to Octavia, Bellamy’s fifteen year old sister, who is nice enough to type up a sheet for them every year. 

“Okay, annual cheers,” Jasper calls. Clarke thinks it’s probably his favorite part. 

They all raise their respective flasks.

“To the Halloween Hunt,” Monty announces.

“May the best team win,” Jasper adds. 

They all tip back their flasks and Clarke squeezes her eyes shut as the whiskey burns a path down her throat and spreads a dull burn across her chest. As quickly as they raised their flasks, everyone is breaking away with their teammate, discussing the items in hushed whispers. Bellamy holds the sheet in front of them, his iPhone flashlight pointed at it so they can see, but he doesn’t say a word to her as they read through it. 

  * _The oldest man in the Shallow Valley cemetery_


  * The best decorated house in Arkadia


  * A picture from the top of the carnival ferris wheel


  * A selfie with a kid dressed as a witch


  * A picture of the Franco witch


  * A video eating ten donut holes at the library in under a minute 


  * A picture of the Cooper scarecrow 


  * A selfie upstairs in the Polis House



Clarke’s eyes quickly scan the list. It’s nothing surprising or too hard - until she gets to the last item. She gawks at the sheet. 

“Who the hell would make us go  _ into _ the Polis House?”

“Probably Raven,” Bellamy scoffs, running a hand through his hair. It makes Clarke’s stomach swoop. “She doesn’t believe in that shit.”

“Should we go there first? Get it over with?”

“Hell no, I’ve got to be more drunk to go in that place.”

Clarke laughs and glances at him, hoping to find him giving her that soft smile he always does when he makes her laugh. He stares intently at the sheet instead. 

“Let’s take the shortcut to the Lightbourne house, then straight to the carnival - we can talk about the rest on the way,” he tells her, already walking away from her, sheet in hand. The rest of the groups are dispersing in different directions already and Clarke jogs to catch up with Bellamy.

“So that would imply you’re actually going to  _ talk  _ tonight,” she prompts.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he huffs. He still won’t look at her, and takes a swig from his flask as they walk towards the shortcut path through the woods that leads from Raven’s backyard towards Main Street.

“Don’t play stupid.”

“I’m not - let’s just focus on winning this, okay?”

Clarke huffs again as they step onto the path, but doesn’t bother pushing him further. Bellamy is as stubborn as a mule. He turns his iPhone flashlight on again as they walk through the dark woods. The silence is suddenly giving Clarke the chills, the sounds of things rustling in the woods surrounding them and their combined breaths leaving her on edge in more than one way. It’s a heavy silence, not the kind of silence she’s accustomed to around Bellamy. She leans closer to him, fighting the urge to cling to him until they finally emerge in the Millers’ backyard. 

The Lightbourne house is noticeable at any time of year, given that it’s the closest thing to a mansion that Arkadia has. During the holidays, it’s even more so. The Lightbournes are known for their extravagant decorations - namely Christmas and Halloween, but even the 4th of July and St. Patrick’s Day get plenty of attention. 

Bellamy is walking so fast towards the glow emanating from the house that Clarke nearly trips over her feet trying to keep up with him. What doesn’t help is that given it’s 6:00pm sharp, swarms of young trick-or-treaters are occupying the street.

“Would you slow down a second?” Clarke calls, exasperated. “I’m going to mow down a kid.”

A mother gives Clarke a scornful look as she walks by with a young dinosaur.

“If you mow down one dressed as a witch, that would be helpful,” Bellamy calls back, stopping in front of the Lightbourne house. Clarke catches up with him a second later. She looks at the house as Bellamy snaps a picture, kind of wishing he would slow down if only so the memories of their last Halloween together aren’t a complete blur.

The entire house seems to be draped in alternating purple and orange string lights and cobwebs, scarily realistic statues of monsters and vampires adorning the flawlessly kept front lawn. There’s even spooky music playing from a loud speaker on the roof, which Clarke knows can be heard from streets away. 

“Got it,” Bellamy tells her. “Carnival?”

Clarke nods, but takes the sheet from him as they walk. She does her best to cross  _ the best decorated house in Arkadia  _ off the list with her red sharpie while still walking. 

Carnival is probably an exaggerated term for what Arkadia hosts, but it’s somewhere that Clarke has a lot of fond memories of from her childhood. They pass storefront after storefront on Main Street, all decorated to the nines, until they reach Arkadia’s annual Halloween Carnival that fills the large park central to the town. It’s mostly penny games where kids can win cheap halloween-themed toys and prizes, fair food, and a handful of rides, none of which probably meet acceptable safety standards.

“This would be a good place to take a picture with a kid in a witch costume,” Clarke suggests.

“Okay.”

_ Helpful _ , Clarke thinks, rolling her eyes. He isn’t looking in her direction, so it’s not like it matters.

“This is going to take forever,” Bellamy complains as he buys them tickets. It’s true that the ferris-wheel isn’t exactly a thrill ride.

“Well, everyone has to do it,” Clarke answers, unable to keep the harshness from her voice. “At least the line isn’t long right now.”

Bellamy doesn’t answer, and they don’t speak for the few minutes that they wait in line. Clarke tries not to even look at him, because then she’s going to remember how attracted to him she is, and then it’s going to hurt twice as badly that he no longer wants anything to do with her. When it’s their turn, they sit down on the bench and pull the bar across them, but Clarke wonders if maybe they’d be better off not trapped to this. Her eyes sweep over their town as they go up, taking in the lights and crowds of the carnival and beyond. It’s not like the ferris wheel is big enough to see over the whole town, but it’s still a nice view.

Clarke clears her throat, shifting on the seat. The bench is small, and her thigh brushes against his. Bellamy tenses when she does and Clarke fights the urge to scream or cry - she isn’t sure which. 

“Remember sophomore year, when we had to bob for apples because of Jasper,” she says, mostly for something to say, something to do. She can’t take the silence anymore. 

Bellamy leans forward, arms over the bar. To her surprise, a smile creeps onto his face, even though he’s looking ahead instead of at her. She thinks he might say something more, and even gets her hopes up. 

“Yeah,” he agrees instead, giving her nothing more.

Clarke watches Bellamy swallow, that strange tenseness coming over him again.

“Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

“You’re being dramatic,” he huffs, shifting so that he can pull their list from his back pocket.

“Don’t do that. Don’t act like  _ I’m _ the one acting strangely.”

“We should do the donuts next,” he says, ignoring her. “Then we can stop by the cemetery on our way from the center of town, and hit up the rest.”

“Fine,” she snaps. “Whatever you want.”

For the briefest moment, something like regret or guilt flickers across Bellamy’s expression. But he doesn’t say anything, only slides the paper back into his pocket. As they make their way back down, Clarke folds her arms across her chest, feeling like she needs to keep something out or maybe something in. She turns her face away from Bellamy, and that’s when she can sense his gaze lingering over her. She couldn’t understand him less if she tried.

They walk over to the public library next, a solid foot between them as they do. Soon enough, Clarke sees the familiar white tents housing the free cider and donut holes that the town hands out on the library lawn every year. At this point, she’s just buzzed enough that any patience she had for Bellamy has quickly turned to innate frustration.

Bellamy and Clarke each take five donut holes so it doesn’t look like one of them is rudely stocking up, and move over to the library steps. 

“Have your phone ready?” Bellamy asks, moving to take the donuts Clarke collected.

“Why do you get to do it?”

Bellamy shoots her an exasperated look. “I don’t  _ want _ to do it, but we all know you’re not going to be able to.”

“Yes I will!”

“We’re wasting time,” Bellamy reminds her.

“Fine, then let me do it,” she snaps. It’s not like she  _ wants _ to shove ten donut holes into her mouth, but he should no better than to imply that she can’t.

“Fine,” he snaps back at her, setting the donuts down next to her and pulling out his own phone.

“Okay,” Bellamy starts, phone in front of his face. “Go.”

Clarke immediately gets to work piling donuts into her mouth, chewing as fast as possible. They’re dry and it’s hard to swallow them but she’s afraid to take the time to pull out her flask so she continues with a determination that she really shouldn’t have when it comes to eating donuts.

Clarke can’t help but notice how Bellamy’s harsh expression fades as he watches her, until he’s biting down a smile, his eyes dancing with amusement.

“Twenty seconds,” he warns. Whether he tried to or not, it’s clear he can’t keep the teasing tone from his voice.

Clarke swallows the last one as Bellamy hits stop on the recorder. 

“Five seconds to spare,” he announces, sounding impressed.

“I told you I could do it,” she nearly growls at him, still irritated. 

“You did,” he drawls, quickly standing. At this point, she can’t tell if he’s teasing her or being genuine. 

“C’mon,” she says, taking the sheet from him and crossing off the task. “We have the cemetery next.”

He has the audacity to huff a laugh as she stomps away. 

\--∞--

The Shallow Valley Cemetery is Arkadia’s largest cemetery, set on a rolling hill on the edge of town. As far as cemeteries go, there’s nothing that’s outlandishly scary about this place - it’s enclosed by a wrought-iron fence, and large oak trees and a handful of mausoleums are intertwined with rows upon rows of tombstones. It’s just your average, run-of-the-mill cemetery, which is why it shouldn’t scare Clarke. But the thing is,  _ every _ run-of-the-mill cemetery happens to scare the shit out of Clarke. Bellamy knows this, which is probably why he doesn’t tease her when she stays close to him as they start walking down the central gravel road that runs through it. Without thinking, she fists the material of his jacket’s arm. He tenses, but says nothing, so Clarke doesn’t let go. If she’s taken by ghosts, she’s taking Bellamy with her.

“Still afraid of cemeteries?” he teases. At least he sounds more amused than cold, so maybe they’re making progress. Still, Clarke isn’t going to let him off the hook that easily - she’s not okay with pretending he  _ hasn’t _ been acting strange.

“Still am,” she confirms. “I’m the same old me - I’m not the one who’s been acting strangely.”

“Clarke,” he starts. She can’t tell if it’s a warning or a plea.

“What? You won’t even tell me why you’re mad at me,” she accuses as they walk further into the shadows of the cemetery. 

Despite her angry words, she doesn’t stop clinging to him. Clarke wishes she could squeeze her eyes shut. She sees things in every shadow and is half convinced the shadows themselves are moving. Maybe if the sky was clear, things would seem less ominous. Instead, there are thick clouds covering most of it, the yellow harvest moon only barely visible behind them. Part of her wants to dig her heels deeper into a fight with Bellamy, if only for the distraction from their surroundings.

“I’m not mad at you,” he argues, running his free hand through his hair. 

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why are you acting weird?”

“Just let it rest, Princess,” he tells her, sounding more exasperated than anything. “Here’s the grave,” he adds, breaking off the path and away from her in the process. She hurries to catch up with him. 

Bellamy pulls his phone out as they approach the oldest grave in the cemetery - or at least, that’s the legend. The founder of Arkadia, William Cadogan, is buried in Shallow Valley and the dates read born 1625 and died 1678. Clarke crosses her arms across her chest, rubbing at her arms nervously as she looks around while Bellamy takes a few steps back to take the photo. Before she can even process it, a dark shape jumps out at them from behind the mausoleum a dozen feet away, releasing a noise between a yell and a shriek. 

Clarke jumps, screaming at the top of her lungs as she reaches for Bellamy, her heart racing a mile a minute as she clings to him, face buried in his chest. The first thing she notices is that Bellamy has barely reacted, except for placing a protective hand against her back. The second thing she notices - or  _ hears _ , since her face is still buried in Bellamy’s chest - is the distinct sound of Murphy’s laughter.

“You guys are dicks,” Bellamy tells him, sounding genuinely angry. 

Murphy continues laughing and Clarke finally turns around to face her horrible friends. Murphy is still curled over laughing and Raven is standing a few feet away, arms crossed as she looks at him with a disapproving expression.

“I tried to tell him not to,” Raven tells them, but even in the dark, Clarke catches how she’s biting down an amused smile. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Clarke snaps at him. Murphy finally collects himself.

“Even if we don’t win, my night has been made,” he shrugs.

“Oh, we’re winning,” Raven assures him. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“You know, if I knew you were going to jump Bellamy the minute you got scared, I would have done that years ago,” Murphy taunts as Raven physically pulls him away by his arm. 

It’s only then that Clarke becomes all too aware of Bellamy’s warm hand still pressed against her back and of the fact that she’s still tightly grasping the front of his jacket. She jumps away nearly as quickly as she threw herself at him. 

“We’re going to kick your asses!” Clarke calls after their disappearing forms. It’s not her best comeback, but her heart is still racing, and her hands are still shaking. When she turns back towards Bellamy, she catches him taking a generous swallow from his flask.

“C’mon,” he says, voice rough. “We’ll kick their asses by winning.”

In that moment Clarke truly hates Murphy, because she can tell by the coldness of Bellamy’s voice that whatever thawing she had managed just minutes ago might as well have never happened.

\--∞--

The photos of the Franco witch and Cooper scarecrow are easy enough to cross off their list as they make their way to the Polis House on the outskirts of town. The Franco witch is just a decorative witch attached to the telephone pole next to the Franco’s farm house during the month of October. It looks as if the witch flew into the telephone pole, and although it wasn’t the kind of thing Clarke would find any evidence of on google, it was something that she used to get excited about seeing when she was a little girl. The Cooper scarecrow is of a similar vein - a halloween scarecrow in front of the Coopers’ cornfields that kids love to look for when their parents drive by the farm.

“Okay - that just leaves the Polis House,” Bellamy announces. Clarke doesn’t bother crossing the items off the list anymore - it’s in Bellamy’s pocket and she can’t be bothered to ask for it.

“Alright,” Clarke agrees. He’s barely said a word to her since they left the cemetery and at this point, she feels defeated and just wants the night to be over. 

The Polis House is an old abandoned house, shuttered and covered in graffiti. Realistically, Clarke knows it’s probably frequented by more drug dealers and drifters than ghosts, but that doesn’t stop her from being spooked about the story behind the house. A chill runs up her spine when she looks up at it. There’s a chance that one of the other groups is around here or even in the house right now. Given Murphy’s antics, she should watch out for them as much as any angry spirits.

Despite their earlier rush, the two of them simply stare up at the dark, foreboding house for a moment. The story goes that 200 years ago, a woman named Lexa lived in the house with her parents. Her parents, disapproving of her relationship with another woman, killed her lover and buried her in the backyard. Lexa, in a fit of rage, killed her parents before killing herself at the grave of her lover.

Clarke isn’t sure how much actual evidence of the story exists, but that’s hardly the point. Stories like this permeate the land and the town, feed off the energy of the place until it hardly matters which points of the story are true and which were exaggerated, or even fabricated. It still feels like a forbidden place, one they have no business stepping foot in. She swallows thickly, imagining how dark the house probably is.

“Only one of us technically has to go in,” Bellamy starts, cutting through the thick silence. He’s clearly ready to sacrifice himself, which only makes Clarke angrier. 

“Don’t be an idiot,” Clarke huffs, brushing past him, her shoulder hitting his a little harshly. She knows that he’ll immediately follow. Even after the disaster this night has been, she never doubts that. 

They head to the back of the house, finding what’s left of a back screen door already ajar. Clarke doesn’t know what to think about the fact that it looks far from boarded up, and for the first time, she’s more nervous about  _ people _ who might be in there more than any ghosts. Bellamy pushes past her and into the house, as if determined to be the first to enter it. He turns his iPhone’s flashlight on, pointing it ahead of them as Clarke walks into the quiet house behind him. Her mind is on high alert, her throat dry, adrenaline pumping through her body. 

“You good?” Bellamy murmurs.

Clarke nods and they make their way from the mudroom they entered and into what’s left of a decrepit kitchen. Bellamy points his phone around and Clarke watches the spaces he illuminates with wide eyes, half expecting to see the face of a ghoul. Her heart is hammering in her chest.

“Fuck, this is creepy,” Bellamy whispers. He huffs a humorous laugh, as if he can’t believe they’re in the house. 

Clarke feels a little better that she’s not the only one freaked out, especially since Bellamy handles all things horror-related degrees better than she does. But then something scurries across the kitchen counter and she jumps towards Bellamy, clinging to his arm, feeling as afraid as ever. 

“Fuck,” she murmurs.

“Just a rat,” he whispers.

Clarke is about to extricate herself from Bellamy, even though her entire body is screaming at her to pull him closer. That is, until Bellamy grabs her hand instead. 

“C’mon,” he tells her, pulling her forward. 

His voice is completely casual - as if they hold hands everyday. As if this is nothing out of the ordinary. If it wasn’t for the way Bellamy interlaces their fingers, Clarke could chalk it up to the logistics of navigating the dark house together. But no - it’s the way he occasionally runs his thumb over hers in a soothing motion that has her questioning the gesture. By the time they begin climbing the rickety staircase, Clarke’s heart is beating twice as fast as before. She can’t untangle the reasons as to why that is.

“We just need to show we were upstairs,” Clarke whispers, finding her voice again. She isn’t sure why neither of them will speak louder than a whisper, but it just feels right. It feels necessary.

“Over there,” Bellamy whispers back, walking towards a room, pulling her with him by the hand still clasping his. 

Clarke’s eyes sweep over the dark hallway, trying to discern whether the moving shadows are in her imagination. She understands what Bellamy was referring to when she sees a single window not boarded up. Bellamy takes his phone out, fumbling as he tries to take the photo of the view with one hand rather than letting go of her.

“Okay, let’s go-” Bellamy starts. A loud creak from the hallway cuts him off.

“Fuck, fuck,” Clarke mutters.

“It’s probably just another rat - or Murphy screwing around again.”

Clarke doesn’t answer. Despite Bellamy’s words, he seems nervous as he leads them back towards the hallway - enough so that he holds Clarke back while he sweeps his phone light over the hallway. 

“Nothing there,” he announces, pulling her forward. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

They quickly make their way down the stairs, but Clarke makes the mistake of glancing to the left, into the dark. That’s when she sees it - the faintest moving shadow only a few feet away. A pale face - undeniably that of a woman - becomes visible. Just as Clarke’s brain processes that, she hears the faintest whisper of her name in her ear.

“Fuck, fuck,” she yells, practically shoving Bellamy down the rest of the stairs and through the kitchen.

“What’s wrong?” he asks breathlessly, but he doesn’t slow down.

“I fucking saw something,” she tells him as they tumble out of the house. She sounds hysterical. 

“Let’s go,” she yells as she pulls Bellamy away from the house. Bellamy however, stops for a moment, looking back at the house in confusion, as if he might see what Clarke is talking about.

“What do you mean saw  _ something _ ?” he questions, finally letting her pull him away. 

“I mean I saw something like a fucking ghost, or not human,” Clarke tells him, tripping over her words, voice cracking.

“Okay, okay,” he soothes her. He’s still got her hand tightly secured in his, and it makes her feel the slightest bit safer as they walk down the dark country road, away from the house. 

They’re quiet for a few minutes, until they pass the Shallow Valley cemetery and head back towards the center of town. Clarke takes a deep breath, a sigh of relief, feeling better now that they’re among the living again.

“Clarke, you’re shaking,” Bellamy points out, looking down at their joined hands.

“Sorry,” Clarke apologizes, finally pulling her hand away from his. “I saw something, I swear.”

“I believe you,” Bellamy says softly. “Are you okay?”

Clarke must take too long to answer, because he stops on the sidewalk, pulling Clarke by her arm closer to him. She’s shocked when he pulls her in for a hug, not because they never hug, but because she wasn’t sure he wanted anything at all to do with her anymore. For a moment, Clarke lets herself sink into his embrace, lets his arms wrap around her and hold her tightly. He’s warm, and safe, and home, so she gives in and nuzzles her face into his warm neck, standing on her toes. It only lasts for a moment though, because then she remembers how angry she is at him. His behavior is giving her whiplash instead of comforting her like it usually does, and so she abruptly backs away from him. 

“Don’t pretend to care when you’ve been an asshole to me for weeks and don’t even have the decency to tell me why.”

“Clarke, I’m not being anything.”

“You  _ are _ ! You’re cold, and distant, and-”

“What do you want from me?” Bellamy yells, cutting her off. Clarke’s eyes widen at the intensity of his voice, at the way he clenches his jaw once the words have slipped out. 

“What does  _ that _ mean? I want my best friend, I want-”

“You’re leaving, Clarke! In a year from now, you’ll be gone, and you won’t give this shitty town a second thought.” He pauses, is quieter when he speaks again. “It’ll be easier, if we aren’t, if we’re not-”

“So what?” Clarke questions, angry tears welling in her eyes. “You just decided all on your own that our friendship has an expiration date? You just-”

“It isn’t just a friendship!” he yells back. Clarke swallows thickly, furrowing her brow. “It isn’t just - at least, not for me.”

Clarke tries to find the right words - any words, really - but fails. Is he saying...no, surely he’s not.

“I  _ like _ you, Clarke,” he continues, quiet and desperate. “No,” he shakes his head. “That’s another lie. I  _ love _ you. I’m sorry, but if you want the truth, there it is. Our friendship is already over, because I love you, and I can’t change that. I also can’t sit in this dead-end town next year while you go off to college, and meet people, and fall in love, and I can’t-” He sighs, eyes sweeping over her, as if trying to gauge her response. “I’m sorry - I’m just going to go. I’m sorry.”

Bellamy starts walking down the sidewalk away from her and it takes her a second to make her feet move. It’s the shock, probably, because he  _ loves _ her. She can hardly believe it, and her heart is pounding uncontrollably. Except this time, it’s in a delicious way that has nothing to do with ghosts and shadows. 

“Bell, wait,” she calls, running to catch up with him. It’s an effort, given how fast he’s walking. “Would you wait?” she asks, grabbing his arm.

“Clarke, you don’t have to...I’m fine, really. I’ll be fine, I’m sorry.”

“Would you let me fucking speak?”

Bellamy raises his eyebrows at that. 

“We have one more stop, but it’s not on the list,” she tells him. 

Bellamy sighs, as if exasperated. “Clarke, I don’t want-”

“It’s the least you can do, after acting like such an ass.”

Bellamy takes a deep breath. She’s never seen him look so distressed and she almost kisses him right there, just to make the expression disappear. 

“Fine,” he agrees. 

Clarke doesn’t take his hand, but she remains close to him as they walk in silence, her body gravitating towards his of its own accord. He doesn’t ask where they’re going, which is strange in itself. It’s like he’s completely withdrawn into himself. The scavenger hunt is forgotten, and Clarke couldn’t care less. Ten minutes later, they finally reach the elementary school playground.

“Why are we at the playground?” His voice is rough. 

“I thought it was my turn to speak,” she reminds him, unable to keep the teasing tone from her voice as she leads him further into the playground.

“As you wish, Princess.”

The nickname makes her cheeks flush and stomach swoop, if only because the adoring tone he uses has come back from the dead at last. Yet, in a way, she feels like she’s hearing it for the first time. It makes her wonder why she never considered that he might actually feel the same way as she does, given the way the word rolls off his tongue. She swallows thickly as she turns to face him, nervous regardless of the fact she already knows how he feels. Part of her is waiting for him to reveal that it’s all part of some elaborate Halloween prank.

“Do you remember when we were here...two years ago?”

“For the scavenger hunt?”

Clarke nods.

“Yeah - to get a photo of the painted pumpkins in front of the school?”

Clarke nods again, and Bellamy waits for her to speak. 

“I - uh...we were walking through the playground after taking the photo. I tripped and scraped up my hands, and you wiped them off and made some corny history joke and just...immediately made me feel better.”

Bellamy smiles at the memory, but ducks his head, as if embarrassed.

“And that’s when I realized I was completely fucked.”

Bellamy’s head snaps back up, intense eyes searching her face.

“That’s when I realized I’d gone and fallen for my best friend, like an idiot,” she continues, taking his face in her hands. They’re still shaking, but like her pounding heart, she isn’t sure of the reason anymore. “Bell, I love-”

Clarke doesn’t have a chance to finish before Bellamy’s lips are on her own. His hands are planted on her waist and he pulls her closer as his lips move against her own. Heat courses through her as his hands trail up her back, Bellamy having an effect on her that even the strongest whiskey couldn’t. They’re both gasping for air by the time he pulls away, but he doesn’t move far, only drops his forehead to rest against hers. 

“You mean it? You love me?”

Clarke rolls her eyes at him. 

“You’re also an idiot,” she giggles before pulling his lips back to hers. 

This time he deepens the kiss and she welcomes his tongue, her stomach dancing as she tastes him, as his hands stroke up and down her sides. Clarke isn’t sure how long she stands there kissing her best friend, their hands roaming each other as if they’re trying to memorize the taste and feel of the other as they strip away a formerly forbidden layer of their relationship. But there’s no need to memorize - Clarke doesn’t intend to let him go. If things go her way, she’ll never know another day without Bellamy Blake. It’s Clarke’s phone ringing in her jacket pocket that eventually forces them to break apart. She reluctantly pulls away to answer it and is delighted when Bellamy’s hands remain steady on her waist.

“It’s Raven,” Clarke tells him, before answering.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“What’s up?” Raven sounds bewildered. “We’ve all been back for over an hour, it’s nearly eleven, what the hell happened to you guys?”

“You must be pretty worried about us that you’re not even taunting us for losing,” Clarke jokes.

Raven huffs a laugh on the other end of the line. “Yeah well - Murphy and I kicked all your asses. Now will you hurry up so we can gloat and then start the movie?”

Clarke laughs. “Yeah, sorry. On our way.”

“Why do you sound so happy about losing?” she asks, tone suspicious. 

“No reason,” she responds, biting down a smile as she looks up at Bellamy. He’s gazing down at her, his responding smile making her wish they didn’t have to go anywhere.

“We’ve got to get back,” Clarke says once she hangs up. Bellamy kisses her once more before intertwining their fingers again. It feels different this time - certain. Promising.

The walk back to Raven’s house is only fifteen minutes and although Clarke knows they could easily walk back in comfortable silence, hand-in-hand, she doesn’t like that they were interrupted. Their conversation feels unfinished. 

“Bell?”

He hums in response, his thumb stroking across hers again. 

“Why did you say...you implied that you’d still be here next year,” she prompts. “You know you’re going to get into so many schools - you’re a straight A student.”

Bellamy tenses. He squeezes her hand, probably unconsciously, before he runs his free hand through his now messy curls. “My mom - we talked this summer. Money is...well, things are worse off than I realized. There’s no way I’m going to be able to afford anywhere.”

Clarke’s chest aches at this revelation - at the news itself and also the fact that Bellamy has been dealing with it all alone for months. 

“Hey,” she says, stopping. She doesn’t want either of them distracted for this conversation, and the others will have to wait or start the movie without them. “There are a lot of scholarships and loans out there - we’ll do some research next weekend and figure it out together, okay?”

“I don’t know - maybe it’s not worth it.”

“Of course it’s worth it,” Clarke argues, a little bewildered. “You’re brilliant, and you deserve to go to college more than anyone I know. We’ll figure something out...I wish you told me sooner.”

Bellamy shrugs. “I was just embarrassed, I guess.”

Clarke pulls him in for a hug, arms around his neck, clinging to him. 

“You never have to be embarrassed around me,” she murmurs into his ear before pulling away. She runs a hand through his curls, simply because she’s allowed to do that now, and he leans into her touch. “Besides, that’s nothing you should feel embarrassed about anyway.”

Bellamy’s face drops to hers and he kisses her softly, slowly. It feels like a kind of thanks, a kind of appreciation for a sentiment that there are no words for. 

“Also,” she adds once he pulls back, his forehead dropping to hers. “I want to be with you - no matter where I am and no matter where you are. College for either of us doesn’t change that.”

Bellamy sighs, his hot breath against her lips giving her goosebumps. “Me too - I don’t want to lose you.”

“You have me,” she assures him, kissing him once more. She’s quickly discovering that the taste of his lips is truly addicting, but she forces herself to pull away in spite of it. “Raven’s going to kill us if we’re not back soon.”

“Alright,” he laughs. “Let’s go.”

\--∞--

By the time Bellamy and Clarke are walking back into Raven’s backyard, everyone else is gathered around the fire and Raven has already set up the projector. Hocus Pocus, projected onto the wall of her shed, is paused. Seems they waited for them after all. Clarke pauses before anyone notices them, and nods towards their joined hands.

“We exposing ourselves tonight?” Clarke murmurs. Her tone is teasing, but it’s a genuine question.

Bellamy only shrugs, a soft smile on his face, as if to say  _ why not _ . Clarke nods in agreement, and they walk towards their friends.

“We thought you guys were dead!” Jasper yells, the first to spot them. 

He’s sitting in a chair next to Maya and Monty and Harper are sharing a patio loveseat. Murphy and Raven are sitting in chairs next to each other, which Clarke thinks are pushed closer together than they were when they left. 

_ Curious _ , she thinks.

“About fucking time,” Raven scolds. 

It’s at that moment, as they walk closer to the group, that their friends seem to notice their joined hands. There’s a lot of clamoring, a lot of groaning about how  _ it’s about time _ , and  _ so that’s why you guys are late,  _ and general teasing. Clarke buries her face in Bellamy’s arm, embarrassed but also unable to stop smiling. Bellamy tells them to knock it off, but Clarke can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Well I’m happy you guys finally got your shit together, so we could properly kick your asses,” Murphy announces.

“Well, we would have won, we had everything,” Clarke challenges, still unable to concede to their win. 

“Actually, we forgot the damn witch costume picture,” Bellamy laughs. He certainly doesn’t seem to care.

“You forgot the  _ easiest _ item,” Harper laughs. 

“Well, we got distracted by-”

“Oh, we know,” Maya teases.

“No,” Clarke laughs. “I was going to say we got distracted by the fucking  _ ghost _ I saw in the Polis House.”

“You did not,” Monty challenges, ever the skeptic. 

“You guys didn’t see anyone...or anything?” Bellamy asks.

Monty looks sheepish. “Well, we never made it there - this one got too drunk, and we got lazy...” Monty admits, nodding at Jasper. 

“We got all the way there and chickened out,” Harper admits.

“We went in, and saw nothing,” Raven challenges.

Clarke spends the next ten minutes trying to convince her friends of what they saw, but in the end, she shakes her head and chalks it up to an experience she’ll have to believe on her own. 

“I believe you,” Bellamy whispers in her ear, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

“You guys are already nauseating, would you sit down?” Raven complains. 

Bellamy sits down in one of the empty chairs and Clarke moves to sit in the one next to his, but he pulls her closer by her arm and onto his lap. Clarke smiles as she swings her legs over his - if he doesn’t mind, then she certainly doesn’t. Maya passes Clarke a huge thermos of warm spiked cider and Clarke pours a mug for Bellamy and her to share. She can’t help but nuzzle even closer to him as the opening credits begin to roll and Bellamy responds by securing his arms tightly around her waist. 

Murphy glances back at them and scoffs. “You two are too happy for a couple of losers.”

“I don’t really think we lost,” Bellamy challenges.

Their friends boo at the cheesy line, but Clarke giggles, unable to dispel the giddiness from her. Bellamy laughs at their friends reaction, pressing his lips to her shoulder as everyone quiets and finally tunes into the movie. Despite it being the first night that Clarke saw a ghost, she decides she’s never felt more alive. 


End file.
